Street Kid
by asjfgkldsglk
Summary: First fic, mostly takes place before the whole team came to be and all, and more specifically how Scout and Spy had first met, coincidentally.
1. Chapter 1

So, had this idea for a while and wanted to write something up about it. First fic, just for fun and all, probably will do multiple chapters. This is set sort of pre-everything, I think the story will do more explaining. And so for a bit there'll be regular names instead of titles, for example in the first while instead of Scout I'm just using the name Trey. But I think that's it for basic stuff to get out of the way, enjoy!

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Trey didn't think he would wind up here. He always figured he'd get a nice job, find a nice girl to settle down with, and maybe raise a family. A normal happy life, nothing out of the ordinary. Though he should have known better, considering he wasn't from a picture perfect family he nearly fantasized about, an unhealthy amount most likely.

His family wasn't the worst out there, but it wasn't great. His Mother was usually gone, either working or hanging around with some guy, and his brothers were either gone as well or just ignored him. Trey hated being ignored, he just couldn't stand it. Could have been because he was the youngest, but he just felt as though he was unwanted and ignored from the start. He figured his Ma wasn't able to give the last kid as much attention as the first, or even a fraction of attention from the first kid.

Not that he hated his brothers, they just weren't great company. Always arguing and getting into trouble, they were pretty well known around his neighborhood as the rowdy boys from the broken home. Not a lot of people came by their house, that one was true. And his older siblings all seemed to get involved in their own mess of trouble. It always sucked having to be brought home by some police officer, or having to call from some station or generally an odd area.

Trey shook his head, trying to focus instead on walking and not on his past. It wasn't too long ago even, he had recently ditched his house and as of now, was pretty firm on living on the streets. Anywhere but there at least. So here he was, trudging along the busy sidewalk, carrying his small bag with him. He didn't have a lot of experience out here alone, but he did grow up in the city. He could figure the rest out, it wasn't hard for him.

Though after walking for quite a while, he decided on taking a break. He rested against a building, slumping his shoulders with a huff. He looked pretty tough for a nineteen year old, with his chipped tooth visible when he was arguing or just talking too loud, his raggedy clothes, he liked to think he belonged out here.

But after glancing around at the older faces walking past, he realized he was the odd one out, as well as low on cash. He only had a fifty dollar bill, one that he had taken from his Mother's jewelry box; which was likely a mistake. So, obviously he needed different bills and more cash in general. He thought about it, and ultimately decided on simply pickpocketing some sucker. He could do that, it was a breeze. Scoping out the people walking, he fixated on one man walking down the large sidewalk.

Already Trey was curious. The man was tall, wearing a nice looking suit. Who wore a freakin' suit out here, it's hot enough without the extra clothes. Plus, some mask on his face. Which was totally odd, he was surprised he wasn't stopped for it. But then again, he'd seen odder people walking down the street with odder things. Though despite the mask, the man looked pretty loaded, so Trey decided on following. Lucky for him, the man was carrying around a black messenger bag, slinging by his side. Likely a foreigner, Trey concluded. They always had odd bags and generally looked different.

Following behind the guy, but not too close, Trey kept a watchful eye. The man was glancing at his watch a couple times, maybe he had a train to catch. Or something. Eagerly, Trey followed, until the two ended up at some café. An odd turn, since he didn't take the man as one to visit some frilly girly café. In the middle of the day too, not like he needed his morning cup of coffee. Though once Trey had gotten inside, he figured it wasn't bad at all. A nice aroma and atmosphere, and he could order something to drink whilst breaking that fifty dollar bill.

So he did that, getting in line behind the man in the crowded area, and waiting. It struck him that the whole time, he was supposed to be robbing this guy. He looked around, it seemed busy enough. So he went to work, as carefully as he could, stuffing two fingers into a small pocket in the man's bag. Easy stuff, he hadn't been caught before, and didn't plan to now.

"Excuse me."

Trey heard the man speak, but not in a nice tone as though he was talking to the pretty barista. No, it was more accusing. He glanced up, seeing that the man was looking down at him, a frown obviously showing his displeasure.

"Well, hey there pal. Somethin' you want?"

Trey had asked in a bit of an accusing tone back, taking his hand out of the bag's pocket. If he couldn't weasel himself out of this easily, he could use intimidation. Or, try to, considering he was in some public place with a bunch of snobs just like the guy he was stealing from.

"What were you just doing?"

The man asked, not moved at all by Trey's attempt at being a bit intimidating. As the other talked, Trey noticed he had some accent. Must be European, some foreigner, as he had suspected earlier. He smirked, figuring he was as dumb as the others who came to the city to sightsee, only to leave quickly after being scared half to death by the locals and kids with attitudes.

"Listen pal, I don't need to explain anythin' to ya. Why not get your sissy cup of joe, and be on your way? Now I'm on my way, nice talkin' to ya."

Trey said with a false salute, turning his heel and pushing the door to leave the place. He'd never been caught before, it was embarrassing really. Well, least now he could try and be more careful. Or work on just being tough enough to mug people, though armed assault didn't sound like a good plan. He sighed, not having been able to get any cash or break that bill.

The man stayed silent as he watched the other leave, still not sure what to think about him. He didn't act like someone from a group or a gang, more like a schoolboy trying to get some money and act cool. The Frenchman grumbled, never liking the kids around here. Always too arrogant and annoying, he would rather not be here. Especially not after that run-in with, what seems to be, the local idiot.


	2. Chapter 2

The other day wasn't so great, he could admit that. Trey found himself broke, and with his spirits down. After the run-in with that rich looking foreigner, he had stumbled upon another group of kids. Looked to be about seventeen or older, and he couldn't help but smirk at their attempts to hassle him. It was only about five guys, and he was sure he could take them on.

Well, he had been wrong. He put up a good fight, no doubt, even left one of them with a broken nose and maybe worse injuries; but he wasn't expecting more guys to show up. After the initial five had started shouting and threatening, it turned violent. Trey threw some punches, the group did back, and before long it was a bloody mess for each of the boys. But then a few others came along, older guys.

They were bigger and meaner looking, and Trey knew the odds were against him even more now that their pals showed up. They demanded anything of value from him, which wasn't much, but he was now short fifty bucks and a watch. He was sore, and barely found a spot to sleep the other night. A terrible day it had been.

Sighing, he kept his gaze fixated on the concrete ground. He was slumped over, staring at the ground, leaning against some building, once again. Though this time he wasn't as optimistic as before. He was tired, hurt, and mostly just bent out of shape. He was in no mood for this, and really just wanted to go back to his bed and rest. As crappy as a bed it was, and as crappy as a home it was, he did miss it some.

But he couldn't turn back, not now. Standing up, he staggered some, before leaning on a public bench. This was going to be difficult; he couldn't hobble around like this! He cursed aloud to himself, still keeping his eyes on the ground. Not wanting to look up and be stared at or given odd looks at, not be judged at all by some older fellow who likely had a nice job and nice home.

Though, Trey didn't know that he _was_ being watched. And judged. And pitied. The Frenchman from the other day, was still in the area. He had noticed the boy, the same one from before, a little earlier this morning. He found him slumped in an alley, sleeping. Having not a lot to do for the time being, he decided to stand back and watch. Watch from afar, and see what happened.

Well, not a lot happened. But he did witness the boy in some strange acts. Throwing punches at park trees, cursing, spitting, this kid was insane. Though the man was curious, which may have been the reason he had decided to at least try talking to him. No harm could come, it was just some street kid after all.

The tall man walked over to the hunched over boy, standing with his hands in his pockets and a cigarette lit in his mouth. He took it out, only to exhale a puff of smoke, and stare the other down. Trey noticed this, giving a side glare to the stranger. No, not a stranger. He could recognize that stupid ugly mask once again, and knew it was that guy from before.

"The hell are you doin'? Don't you know smoking's bad for you?"

He asked harshly, not wanting to really talk to this guy. He wondered why the hell he was even here. The Frenchman raised an eyebrow, not expecting that to be the first thing to come out of the boy's mouth. But it was something at least.

"My my, you certainly seem concerned with public health. Do you usually snoop into people's personal business?" He asked, taking another inhale of the cigarette, only to blow out more smoke Trey's way. In a way, he was simply taunting him, seeing how far the other could be pushed.

"It's not personal, you bring that shit into my space, and it's now my problem too. Stop stinkin' up the city, you're ruinin' the air scumbag!"

Trey argued back, standing up straight and throwing his hands up. Really he didn't care if the guy smoked, but he needed something to be angry at. A reason to go off on someone, just to get rid of this pent up anger he had.

The man rolled his eyes, taking out the cigarette and dropping it, stepping on it to put it out.

"There. Now calm yourself."

The atmosphere was definitely tense, with neither of them getting anywhere. Trey was keeping an eye on this guy, waiting for him to speak up or do something.

"What are you even doing here, bucko? You come for something? You want to turn me in for what happened yesterday?" Trey asked, leaning on the bench. He folded his arms over his chest defensively, not wanting any games here.

"Non. Not that. I was only wondering what you were doing out here - _still_, doing out here. Hopefully not mugging strangers." He stated in his tone that meant business, the guy was all serious.

"Nah I ain't doing that, but why do you care? You still mad? Is that it?" Trey was good with pestering people, he already knew that from his family and teachers, all either telling him or just giving off that vibe.

"Do you have a home, boy?"

The question took Trey a bit off guard, he wasn't expecting that one. This wasn't the guy's business, and he shouldn't be asking stupid questions. He scoffed, shaking his head. "No, I ain't got no home. Why ask?"

"Well, I was only wondering. Is zhat why you were trying to steal from me?"

Trey could admit he felt a bit guilty by now, and he didn't like the feeling. He'd been raised to know not to steal or take things, it was just wrong. He knew it, but he did it anyway. So did his brothers and he knew they knew it was wrong too. They probably felt bad as well.

He gave a small nod, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, that's why. Is that all you wanted?" He asked, his posterior and attitude changing in a second. Not wanting to appear as some pushover, or some sissy that was feeling bad about his actions.

The man pulled out his pack of cigarettes, taking one, lighting it, and sticking it in his mouth. All while Trey watched, eyebrow arched, still not understanding this guy. Though finally he nodded, and the conversation was done.

The two stood in silence for a moment or so, and Trey wasn't sure what to really say next. He knew he should say _something_, not like there was anything else he had to do today.

"So what's your deal? You just pop up again, asking questions; you stalking me?" Trey asked, eyebrow arched, out of curiosity. "I don't even know you."

"Not stalking you, I have much more important things to do than follow some boy around the city." The other replied dryly, waving a hand to shoo the boy away from the park bench. Once Trey took a step back, the man took a seat, rather than stand there.

He waved a hand over, offering the boy to sit down if he'd like. It was obvious he had been sore or tired, leaning against whatever structure there was.

Trey took a seat, though made sure to keep some space between the two of them. He didn't want people thinking they knew each other, cause they didn't. And he didn't hang around business people in suits and weird masks.

"I was curious to see what zhe hell you were doing with your time, which is obviously nothing important." He explained, glancing over at the boy. In a way, he liked to see the younger one get upset over little things, it was amusing.

Though Trey frowned, he wasn't going to argue back. It was true, he didn't have anything important going on, he was just wasting everyone's time. "Yeah, I know. I'm a loser, I get it. I'm a bum, just some nobody. Is that all you wanted to hear Mister… What's your name anyway?"

The man shrugged some, crossing one leg over the other. He was silent for a bit, not going to give out his name. Part of him wondered if it would matter, but he was a Spy, and they kept secrets. Everything was a secret really, from his name to his face, to his job.

"You can call me whatever you like, I don't care. Pick a name, Louis, Adriane, Francis; I'm open to mostly anything." He stated, keeping an eye on the passing cars and pedestrians, focused elsewhere.

"Fine. I'll call you whatever. Uh, let's see…Something that fits," He thought for a moment, looking over the man to think of a name. The Spy raised an eyebrow, finally glancing over at the boy, only to see him concentrating on a name. How hard was it to pick something?

"Alright alright, I think I got one! I'll just call you Vince. I kind of like that name, maybe you could change it to that, it's so great." Trey grinned at the new name, supposing it fit pretty alright.

"Vince" rolled his eyes. It wasn't terrible, and he doubted they'd meet again, so there was no harm. With that, he stood up, and turned to walk off.

"Right then. I bid you adieu –"

"Trey. My name's Trey, by the way. And yeah, see ya around, Vince."

He said with a salute, happy to at least have had one nice conversation with someone. It was lonely out here, and he wouldn't admit it, but he did hope to possibly see his new pal again.


End file.
